


Honesty in the Aftermath

by CrashDevil (cjdevlin19)



Series: A Hard Ten Series [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Drug Use, F/M, Rape/Non-con Elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-06
Updated: 2019-01-06
Packaged: 2019-10-05 13:29:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,602
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17325899
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cjdevlin19/pseuds/CrashDevil
Summary: Y/n meets Sam's sponsor, Andy, who seems to think there's nothing to worry about from Sam's declaration of love, but what if there is something worth worrying over? THIS IS A DARK FIC! PLEASE HEED THE WARNINGS!!!!!Starts fluffy and devolves into mad angst.**************





	Honesty in the Aftermath

**Story Warnings** : **18+** **HERE BE SEX, DO NOT READ IF YOU’RE A YOUNG’UN!,** mentions ofprostitution, protected sex, mentions of drug addiction, mentions of drug use and paraphernalia, **non-con unprotected sex and the problems that come with that** , 

 

It took two days to find out Sam's sponsor's name, because you had to act like you weren't _trying_ to find out. Andy seemed like a good man, based on Sam's description. Sam credited Andy with a lot of his progress in recovery. “I don't think I would have made it as far as I have if I didn't have Andy to support me, Dean to push me. I think I probably would've overdosed by now.”

“The fentanyl they lace the stuff with these days would kill you faster than anything.”

“How do you know about fentanyl?” Sam asked.

You smirked. “Well, ya see… my boyfriend, he’s always got dates on Friday and Saturday, so I stay home and watch  _Live PD_. They’re constantly talking about how dangerous that shit is.”

Sam nodded. “Yeah, it’s really dangerous. We lost a few guys from my Wednesday morning meeting.”

“So, what’s Andy like, huh?” You presented Sam with a plate of salad and sat next to him, pouring dressing onto your own lettuce.

“He’s pretty cool. He’s almost halfway through his third year of sobriety. He’s a great example and… you know, he’s helped me through… some tough times and weak moments. I mean, I can always call Dean to help but… Dean doesn’t really… like, he knows but he doesn’t  _know_.”

You nodded. “Yeah. I get it.” You popped a piece of cucumber in your mouth and bit your lip. “So, can I meet him or is that a no-no? Mom never did the sponsor thing, so I don’t know the etiquette for it.”

“You wanna meet Andy?” Sam raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah! I mean, he’s really important. Like, ‘save your life’ important, so… I mean, unless you don’t want me to. If it’s uncomfortable, I understand.”

“No. No, it’s totally cool. Uh, I mean, I don’t like hang with him or anything, but if you wanted to come to the open meeting on Monday, he’d be there.”

“Monday? What time?”

“Noon.”

“I’ll be there.”

~~~~~

You sat in the back row of a set of white plastic folding chairs as Sam put coffee in styrofoam cups and hung two glazed donuts on his finger. He handed one of each to you and sat down. “I know, not exactly a nutritious lunch, but it’s all we got,” he said, licking the glaze from his finger.

“It’s totally fine, Sam. I don’t look like someone who says ‘no’ to donuts, do I?” You took a drink of coffee and followed it with a bite of donut.

People got up and started talking, speaking of temptation and stress, what they did to make it from their last meeting to this one, and then Sam got up. “Hey, guys. My name’s Sam.”  _‘Hi, Sam_ ,’ echoed through the room. “I’m addicted to heroin and I am six months and seventeen days sober. Uh, God, I don’t know where to start. Four days ago, I, uh, I had to see Ruby. It was a work thing, Christmas party, but she… she was there and it was hard. You know, I’m so conditioned to relate Ruby with that high, you know, and she was right there in front of me and… all I could think about was y/n.” Sam pointed to you and you blushed as people turned around to look at you. “She was at the party with me. She's… I wish I could always have her with me. I-I don’t think about getting high when I’m with her. I can forget everything that’s wrong when I’m with her. I was terrified to tell her that I was in NA. I thought she’d run screaming but-” Sam scoffed, happily.

“-she asked to see my medallion. She understands and wants to help me heal. She's… amazing.” Sam shook his head. “I’m kinda waiting for the other shoe to drop, right? Nothing good like this happens for me. Like, what have I ever done to deserve a woman like her?” He cleared his throat. “Anyway, uh, I have another reason to stay clean, I guess is what I’m trying to say. Another reason to not fuck up.”

When Sam sat back down, you leaned up and pressed a kiss to his cheek. He blushed a little and took your hand. “That wasn’t too much pressure, was it? I just wanted everyone to know you were-”

“It’s not so much pressure. I like knowing you think so highly of me.” You blushed and kissed the back of his hand. “So, which one’s Andy?” you asked.

Sam pointed to a small-framed man with a scruffy look, who gave a nervous smile when he saw you and Sam looking at him. When the meeting concluded, you and Sam approached Andy. “So, this is the mysterious y/n. Just showed up in Sam’s life out of the blue last month,” he said, extending his hand. You took it with a smile.

“It was more, I found him out of pure dumb luck last month.”

“ _I’m_ the lucky one,” Sam disputed.

“Thanks, babe. Um, could I trouble you to get me another cup of coffee, Sam?” you asked, presenting him with the empty styrofoam cup. He took it from your fingers and walked away to the coffee urn. You waited until he was out of earshot before you turned back to Andy. “He says he’s in love with me.”

“Yeah?”

“It’s been a month. A month and that man thinks he’s in love.”

“Okay?”

You sighed. “You’re not worried he might be replacing heroin with obsessional love?”

It was Andy’s turn to sigh. “ _You’re_ worried,” he said, pulling out a pen. “Gimme your number. I’ll text you when he’s not around. We’ll talk it out.”

“Thank you.” You rattled off your number and he wrote it on the inside of his hand, closing his fingers around the numbers as Sam walked up with your coffee. “Thank you, Sam. You’re so great.”

“Not as great as you.” He wrapped his arms around you from behind and set his chin on the top of your head. “How’ve you been, And?”

“Uh, pretty good. I sold the van.”

“Really?”

“Yeah… they’re gonna paint it. I’m kinda sad about it but…” Andy shrugged. “I mean, the van was home for years, but it’s a symbol of good things that I’ve got a real home now, real job, all that. Besides, you know, I could never get in that thing without wanting to light up, so…”

“You lived in a van?” you asked, taking a drink of your coffee.

“Yeah. I was a junkie and a pothead and I couldn’t keep a job to save my life… so I lived in a badass van with a barbarian chick painted on the side.”

Your eyebrows shot up, completely of their own accord. Sam chuckled. “Is she surprised? She feels surprised.” He twisted to look in your face. “Yeah, she’s surprised.”

“Well… a barbarian chick… it’s surprising.”

“Riding a polar bear into battle,” Sam continued, his tone amused.

You chuckled as you looked at your watch. “Oh, shit. I have to get back. I have a teleconference at 2.” You went to your tiptoes and placed a chaste kiss on Sam’s lips and pulled your keys from your pocket. “Text me, huh?” It was a request to both of them, but only Sam nodded.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“You know the Program?” Andy asked, handing you a plastic tray of nachos and walking off toward an alley lane. You just nodded and followed him. Bowling alley on Christmas Eve… the things you do for love. “That’s why you’re worried about the fine line between love and obsession.”

“Is it so fine a line, Andy? I mean…”

“Do  _you_ love  _him_?” he asked, sitting at the touchscreen and inputting your names… well, inputting ‘Obi-Wan’ and ‘Leia’. “Because if you love him, then you can’t judge his feelings.”

“I’m just worried, Andy. You’ve known him a lot longer than I have. You’ve been his sponsor for more than a year.”

“And I’ve seen him up, I’ve seen him down. I’ve pulled him out of back alleys and crack houses… well, I’ve found him and called Dean to pull him out of back alleys and crack houses ‘cause I ain’t big enough to pull Sam anywhere.” Andy stood and grabbed his bowling ball from the return. “Since he’s been talkin’ to you… I dunno. He seems more at ease. I’m not worried about him so much.”

“And you were? Like, he was still a major risk  _before_ me?”

“Every addict’s  _always_ a major risk. I’ve seen people with twenty years under their belt fall to the call, you know?” He rolled the bowling ball toward the pins and turned back around as it rolled lethargically into the gutter, instead. “But Sam… you know, his job puts him in some bad situations and he’s always around alcohol and he’s done really good lately because he hasn’t been around Rube, but… ya know, he has to. Sometimes, just like at the Christmas party, Sam  _has_ to be around his old drug pusher. It’s a problem, ya know?” His second ball knocked down two pins and he rolled his eyes at his poor skills.

You stood and picked up your ball from the return, squaring up on the lane and tossing it toward the pins, smiling when they all fell to the hardwood floor. “I can see how that might be an issue, but he made it to his six months.”

“Yeah, but… it was an everyday struggle for him. And I mean  _every_ day.” Andy turned to you. “He called me every day for months. After relapsing over and over, he was so scared. He was so scared he’d never stay clean. I mean, we all kinda… that fear is always at the back of our minds, but, for Sam it was never in the back. It was always right there at the front of his noggin.”

“And since he met me… it hasn’t been?”

“No. He’s been able to relax. And that’s a good thing.” Andy shook his head. “I think he  _does_ love you. I think he loves you and if you love him back then there’s nothing to worry about. He’s not obsessed with you, he’s just crazy in love, you know?”

“So you don’t think… it’s an issue?” You couldn’t help the small smile that crept across your lips at the thought that Sam might  _really_ love you. “You really think he might just…  _love_ me?  _Me_?”

“Well, I mean, I’ve known Sam for a year and a half, been his sponsor for… fourteen months… and I’ve never seen him obsess over anything except his recovery. How he acts about you doesn’t seem obsessional. It seems like love to me.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

_It seems like love to me_  repeated in your head for hours. Sam was working, so you didn’t have a chance to talk to him until Christmas morning. He showed up at your door with two thick paper cups full of coffee and a shiny green gift bag. “Merry Christmas!”

“Merry Christmas, Sam. Come on in.” You closed the door behind him and rushed for the five foot tall artificial tree to grab the only wrapped box still under the tree.

“You already did presents with Charlie?”

“Yeah. We did Christmas Eve. She, uh, spends her Christmas at the hospital.” You gave him a small, sad smile. “Her mom was in an accident. She’s been in a coma since Char was a girl. Charlie reads  _The Hobbit_  to her, from cover to cover, every Christmas. It’s sad, but sweet.”

“Sounds like it.” Sam set the coffee cups on the coffee table and you handed him the box while he handed you the bag. “Merry Christmas, babe.”

“Merry Christmas, Sam.” You watched as he opened the box. He let out a gasp as his eyes fell on the rollerball pen. “That’s the right one, right? The one you were drooling over at the mall?”

“This is an $80 pen, y/n.” He unsecured it from its box and placed it in his hand like he was writing something.

“Well, I found it for cheaper on Amazon but the money’s not important. It’s a proven fact that I’d spend thousands on you, sweetheart,” you teased. “And you know, you’re a lawyer. You need a good pen for all the paperwork you do. I have refill inserts in my room, too, but I couldn’t get them to wrap pretty so I gave up.”

“I love it! Thank you!” He pressed his lips to your forehead. “I hope you like your gift. I wasn’t… I wasn’t sure what to get you and Kate helped me, so if you hate it…”

You opened the bag and pulled out the green tissue paper, gasping as your eyes fell on a beautiful scarf. “Is this…  _Burberry_? Sam, you bought me a  _Burberry_ scarf?” You wrapped the soft cashmere around your neck. “I love it, Sam!”

“Oh, then  _I_  picked it,” he said with a smile.

“It’s so soft!” you exclaimed, rubbing the end of the scarf against your cheek a few times before wrapping your arms around his neck. You looked up into his bright hazel eyes for a few seconds, biting your bottom lip, before grinning. “I love you, Sam Winchester. I’m in love with you.”

“Wow, I gotta buy you more scarves.” The two of you chuckled but Sam finished with a little scoff. “Really? You… you  _do_?”

“Yeah,” you answered, smiling. “I’m ready to say it. I love you.” You pulled his head down to meet yours, licking into his mouth and sucking his bottom lip between your lips.

He groaned into your mouth, hands grasping at your hips. “Charlie’s gonna be gone a while, right?” he asked, walking you backward toward the couch. You nodded as heat started to flood your body. “Good. I’d hate for her to walk in while I plow you over the back of your couch.”

He wasted no time getting your pants around your ankles, your body bent over the back of the couch as he took you from behind. His cock hit your cervix with every stroke and you screamed his name. His fingers dug into your shoulders, holding you steady as your body threatened to fall over the edge to the cushions below. “Fuck, y/n. I fucking-” he groaned as you clenched around his cock. “-love you. Love your big soft ass, the way your cunt grabs my cock. Love the way you scream for me and when you can’t say anything but my name. ”

“S-sam, fuck… God, fuck.”

“Love you.” He reached around your body and let his fingers swipe across your clit, making you cry out. Your body went stiff as your orgasm washed over you and Sam only made it a few more thrusts before he came, too, with a loud grunt. He pulled out, breathing heavily and pulled the condom off with a satisfied noise. “Merry Christmas.”

You pulled your pants up and slid down to the floor, body feeling like Jello. You looked up at him from the ground. “Merry Christmas.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“You’re weird,” Charlie almost accused, looking across the living room at you.

“What?”

“You got a boyfriend and now you’re all… weird. Like, you’re a pod-person. You, the you that you are when you’re comfy… like you are with me, you’re acting like that person all the time. It’s creepy.”

“I’m sorry I’m happy?”

“You aren’t happy,” she started, smiling slightly. “You’re finally well-adjusted. It’s disgusting.”

You laughed. “I love you, too, Char.” You shook your head as your pocket vibrated. You pulled out your phone to see a text from Sam  **Can I call you? If not can you call asap**

You immediately dialed his number. “Hey, babe, what’s wrong?”

You could feel his stress through the phone. “Um…” he sighed, heavily. “Uh, Ruby got to my little brother. He’s been using for months. I should’ve known. At the party, he was…”

“Oh, Sam, I-”

“They… they got a bad batch tonight… Ruby was gone by the time EMTs got to ‘em… Narcan brought Adam back, but-but he wasn’t breathing for… they think ten minutes, at least. They don’t know if he’s going to wake up. They’ve got a machine breathing for him and-”

“Where are you?” You stood quickly, pulling your keys as you rushed for the door. “Which hospital?”

“Northwestern Memorial.”

You texted Charlie that Sam was fine, it was a family thing, and hauled ass to Northwestern Memorial. You wrapped your arms around Sam’s chest and he held you to him. “Are you- I mean, I know you’re not okay, but… how can I help?”

“Just having you here helps. Thanks for coming,” Sam whispered into your hair.

“Didn’t think you’d show after how he treated you.” Dean walked to the door of the room and leaned against the doorjamb.

“I’m not here for Adam, Dean. I’m here for Sam… and you, Kate and John.”

“Well, it’s nice of you to be here. Sam needs-”

“This isn’t about  _me_ , Dean,” Sam bit out.

Dean shook his head, lips pursed in sarcastic disbelief. “Nah. Ruby’s dead, our brother’s in a coma from an overdose and you’re perfectly  _fine_.” He rolled his eyes. “I called Andy for you. He’ll be here in a few hours,” he said, before turning on his heels and heading back into the hospital room.

You looked up into Sam’s eyes and gave a sad smile. “You’re not okay. Dean’s right to be worried, Sam.”

“I’ll be fine.” He pulled you by the hand into the hospital room, where the entire Winchester family were sitting around the ICU bed.

You passed out on the little vinyl couch in Sam’s arms, but you woke up alone. You immediately panicked, standing to slap Dean’s shoulder. “Where’s Sam?’ you demanded as soon as his lids lifted over those brilliant green eyes.

“You had him. I mean…” He blinked himself further awake, sitting up from where he was sitting on the linoleum floor. “You were both on the couch. He didn’t say anything. Shit!” His phone was instantly in his hand. “Where the hell are you?” He stood, his jaw clenching tightly. “Sam- oh, bullshit! Call And- No! If you think I believe that, you must really think I’m- Where the hell are you? I’m coming- Fine. I’ll just send y/n.”

Dean hung up and turned to you. “He said he’s at his place, that he just needed to be alone. He needs to not be alone right now, but he doesn’t want me there, so batter up, y/n.”

You were worried, a pit in your stomach bigger than you felt was strictly necessary considering you didn’t have any evidence that anything was wrong, as you approached his door. You tried the doorknob and it opened and you took a deep breath before stepping inside. “Sam?” you called out clicking the door closed behind you and starting through the living room toward his bedroom. “Sam?”

“I told him not to send you,” he called from behind the door.

“And  _he_ told  _me_ ‘batter up’.” You pushed the door open and looked in, swallowing when your eyes fell on Sam, sitting sprawled out across the end of his bed. He looked exhausted, almost sick. In the dim light of his bedside lamp, he looked almost yellow instead of his normal tanned and radiant. Your eyes fell on his right hand, ring finger and thumb repeated picking at the skin of his left forearm, almost subconsciously. He wouldn’t meet your eyes, so you stepped closer. “Sam.”

“I’m fine, y/n. You can stop worrying.”

“No, I can’t.” You licked your lips and scanned the room. You side-stepped toward the bathroom, keeping your eyes on your boyfriend. “You’re picking, Sam.”

“So?”

“So, I looked up what heroin use looks like, Sam. I talked to Andy and Dean and I know that-” You ducked into the bathroom and quickly slid to your knees in front of the sink, pulling open the cabinet and grimacing as your eyes fell on an obviously used needle and a dirty spoon. You fell backward as Sam suddenly appeared, slamming the cabinet door closed. “Sam, please. You need to call your sponsor. You need-”

“No, I don’t. I’m fine, I-” He bent at the middle and picked you up off of the floor, setting you on the edge of the counter and wrapping his arms around you. “I have you, y/n, and that’s all I need. Just you.”

“Sam,” you started to protest, but he pulled back, grabbing your shirt and pulling it over your head. “This isn’t-” He silenced you with his mouth covering yours, pulling harshly at your bra until you felt the hooks snap and the bra fell loose. He pulled it down by the cups and attached his mouth to your nipple, fingers working to unbutton your jeans. “Sam, you’re trying to distr-” His teeth came down on your nipple, causing you to cry out in pain. He pulled you off of the sink counter and carried you to his bed. As he tore your pants and panties down your legs, you groaned. “You can’t just distract me with sex, Sam. You need to call Dean or-”

Sam growled, angrily. “Stop saying that! Stop talking about Dean.” You swallowed, nervously, looking down into his eyes with the pinpoint pupils as he sneered up at you. He looked almost crazed as he turned his head and sunk his teeth into your inner thigh. You screamed. “Shut up!” he demanded and you pressed your lips together, whimpering.

Sam was always hard on you in bed. He always grabbed your hips like he was trying to sink his fingertips through your flesh and he’d been known to scrape his teeth across your skin in a beautiful ‘just barely painful’ way.

This wasn’t that.

Sam hurt you. He put bite marks, deep and angry ones like he’d been trying to get his teeth to touch through your skin, across your body. He didn’t prep you. He didn’t lick you out or finger you before sinking his massive cock into you. It burned and stretched and hurt, but when you whimpered and told him to slow down, he just slammed his hips forward harder and when you cried out, he slapped his left hand over your mouth, all the while whispering how he loved you and only needed you in your ear.

It wasn’t until it was over, until you were shaking, pulling your underwear up your legs as Sam disappeared into his bathroom, that you realized there was cum dripping out of you. He had been too out of it to put a condom on.

“How is he?” Dean asked when you dialed his number from the car as you drove home.

“He’s relapsed. He needs you and Andy.”

“You just left him there?”

“Dean… just get there.”

“Y/n, what happened?”

You hung up. You couldn’t explain it to Dean, you could barely wrap your head around it yourself. Your body was in massive pain, your panties sticky, and you noticed the handprint blooming across your face from Sam forcefully silencing you when you looked in the visor mirror. You didn’t look in the visor mirror again.

You looked like a rape victim, but that wasn’t quite right. Because it was Sam. It was Sam and you loved him and he was just a bit… he was rough and careless, but he didn't…

You sat in your car for hours, waiting for your pharmacy to open. They knew you there. You’d been coming to them for feminine hygiene products and cheap makeup for years. If you went in there looking like you did, they’d call the cops  _for_ you. You pulled out your makeup bag and grabbed the kit for hiding the dark circles under your eyes. You reluctantly looked in the visor mirror again.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I don’t wanna do this, Dean,” Sam whined, his head hanging over the bucket he was clinging to.

“Well, you shoulda thought’a that before you decided to chase that Dragon again,” Dean responded, gruffly.

“Dean, you don’t understand, I-” Sam started, pulling his sweat-drenched hair back with a hair-tie.

“You’re right, I  _don’t_ ,” Dean snapped. “Our baby brother currently has a tube down his throat with a machine breathing for him because of that shit and you thought it’d be a good idea to inject liquid death into  _your_ veins? I don’t understand how you could look at all your progress and say, ‘Fuck that! I’d rather be high, right now’. I don’t understand a bit of it, but that’s why Andy’s here.”

Andy walked in with his phone to his ear and shook his head at Dean. “She’s still not answering.”

Dean looked up in exasperation, as Sam’s eyebrows came together. “Who’s not answering?”

“Your girlfriend.” Dean turned his eyes back on his brother’s face. “What happened, Sam? What’d you do?”

Sam shook his head. “Nothing. I-I didn’t-” The look on Dean’s face made Sam reevaluate. “I didn’t want her to call you, so I-” Sam swallowed against a wave of nausea. “I distracted her.”

Dean’s lips pursed and he felt an urge to punch his younger brother. “You ‘distracted’ her? How’d you do that?” Dean knew, though.

“We… we had sex, Dean, wh- ugh.” Dean scowled as Sam retched into the bucket.

“Dude, no wonder she won’t pick up the damn phone.” Sam looked up, confusion lacing his hazel orbs. Dean scoffed. “As big as you are, as hard as you  _normally_ go, for you to go at her when you’re high and irritated with her… Sam, you  _had_ to have hurt her.”

Sam shook his head. “No, I-I didn’t.”

“Did she cry?”

Sam’s eyes went unfocused as his mind called forth images of y/n under him, his hand over her mouth, tears in her eyes. “I didn’t mean-”

Dean shook his head. “Great, well, when you make it back up to Step 9, maybe you can make amends for practically raping her.”

Anger flashed through Sam, white hot enough to burn the withdrawal temporarily. “I didn’t rape her, Dean!”

“What’s the first rule of relapse, Sam?” Andy guided.

Sam sighed and looked into the bucket. “Honesty in the Aftermath,” he quoted.

“We’re honest about what we’ve done and why. Complete honesty.” Andy nodded. “So, what’d you do? Honestly?”

Sam shook his head. “She… she wanted to call you and I… didn’t want you to know, so I… I kissed her and I took her clothes off and I… I… she wasn’t wet… but I…” Sam closed his eyes and licked his lips. “And I didn’t put on a condom and… she kept…” A wave of nausea hit Sam, and he wasn’t sure if it was due to his withdrawal or his overwhelming guilt. “She was crying and I didn’t want to-to hear it so I p-put my h-hand over her mouth and-”

Dean’s jaw clenched. “Nah, that doesn’t sound like a rape, at all.”

“Dea-” Sam gagged again, hanging his head in the mouth of the bucket.

“Shut up, Sam,” Dean demanded. “Unfortunately, we don’t have the luxury of worrying over y/n right now. We have to worry about  _you_. I can’t even  _consider_ tracking down your girl to see if you broke her or not until you make it through the first twenty-four. So, get comfy, little brother… and hope she doesn’t go to the cops.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You took two  _Plan B_ s. The pharmacist said you only needed one, but you were adamant. Clinical trials of birth control are never done on women over 180 lbs so you couldn’t be certain that it would work if you only took one. You couldn’t be sure that it would work if you took two, but it gave you a bit of peace of mind to take the second one.

You didn’t go home. Charlie would know, immediately, that something was wrong. She was like a sister to you and she would see through the caked-on makeup to the truth underneath. “No, Charlie, I’m just gonna take a few days. I’ve told Sherry and Deedee that the firm’s gonna be closed ‘til after New Years, so-”

“But how’s Sam? How’s his brother?”

You took a deep breath. “Not good. Neither of them are good. That’s why I’m gonna take a few days. I’ll probably be hanging out at the hospital, okay? I just didn’t want you to worry about me not coming home for several days.” Your phone beeped as Dean tried to get through to you. “Listen, I gotta go. My phone’s gonna be off, ‘cause of the hospital. Love ya, Char.”

“By-”

You didn’t mean to hang up on her, but you did. You couldn’t help it. Your hands were still shaking some and you felt like you needed to sleep for days. You checked into a motel and curled up on the bed. It took hours to fall asleep. When you woke, it was the next morning, light filtering through the cheap curtains as a light knocking roused you.

Dean was standing on the other side of the door, hands going into his pockets as you looked out at him. “Hey.”

“How’d you find me?”

“Charlie. Apparently, this is the last place your bank card was used.” You opened the door wider and he walked in. “She’s pissed that you lied to her, by the way. I’m sure she’ll understand when you explain why, but-” He took a deep breath and ran his eyes over you, lingering on the bruises around your face.

“Sam made it through the first twenty-four hours?” You asked, quietly.

Dean nodded. “By force. He, uh, wanted nothing more than to go get high as soon as he realized what he did.” He sighed. “So, can we expect badges at Sam’s door or…”

“I didn’t call the  _cops_ ,” you answered. “He…” you sighed, shaking your head. “My mom once got drunk and bashed me over the head with a bottle. I’m used to…”

“Princess, this ain’t the same and you know it.”

“He was high. He didn’t have control over himself. He-”

“Hurt you.  _Bad_. Don’t act like it’s no big deal, y/n. I can see the bruises on your face and-”

“He’s  _sick_ , Dean. I knew that. I knew, going into his apartment, that he might be fucked up and I chose to go in, anyway.”

“ _I_  sent you in, y/n, but that doesn’t make it any more  _my_ fault than it does  _yours_. It was Sam’s choice to get high, it was his choice to force himself on-”

“That’s not what happened… he just-”

“Come on, y/n, that’s  _exactly_ what happened. He told me, okay? You wanted to call me and Andy in, ‘cause you saw what he’d done, but he wanted to shut you up, so he threw you on the bed and fucked you… dry and raw with his eleven fuckin’ inches, and when it made you cry, he slammed his hand over your mouth so your noises wouldn’t make him lose his hard-on.”

“I didn’t tell him to stop, or anything, Dean, and it’s not the first time he’s put bruises on me.”

“It’s not like you  _could_ tell him ‘no’ with his hand over your mouth.”

You turned angry eyes on the older Winchester brother. “Is this some sort of payback for kissing you the other night? You gotta come here and be an asshole?”

“No, y/n, this is just the fucking truth, okay? You aren’t helping him by denying what he did. There are people who would call what he did ‘rape’ and it’s cool if you don’t want to call it that, but it doesn’t change it.” Dean stepped closer but seemed to deflate as he looked at you. “He  _needs_ accountability about the shit he does when he’s high. Yeah, he’s sick. He’s goddamn diseased according to the Program, and if you excuse what he’s done, then he’ll excuse it. It’ll be okay to hurt you and it’s  _not_. Don’t sugarcoat this shit. I’m about to lose Adam because he shot almost pure Fentanyl up his arm. I would die if I lost Sammy, too.”

You looked away from Dean. “I love him. I can’t think he… he did that. I can’t-”

“I know you do, y/n. And that’s why you have to look at this,  _really_ look at it. There’s a thing Andy preaches, uh, ‘Honesty in the Aftermath’. Honest reasons for what caused the relapse and what he did, but Honesty in the Aftermath is important for  _us_ , too. Sam hurt you. You don’t wanna call it what it was, fine, but he hurt you enough that you retreated from the world, shut down your business for the rest of the year, lied to your best friend and hid in a cheap motel to sleep off the depression I can see in your eyes.” Dean pulled his left hand out of his coat pocket and swiped his thumb under your eye, getting rid of tears you weren’t sure when you’d started to cry.

“You have to show him the tears, princess, and you gotta show him the bruises. You have to show him what he did so that he can take honest inventory. He has to not pick up the needle again. We can’t lose him,” Dean whispered. You nodded. You couldn’t lose Sam. Dean pulled away, realizing his hand was still on your cheek, and pulled a piece of paper out of his right coat pocket. “If you wanted to talk to him, he’s gonna be meeting-hopping with Andy all day. Here’s the list.”

“Dean.” You stopped him as he went to leave your motel room and he turned sad green eyes on you. “Thank you for coming to check on me.”

“I would’ve found you yesterday, but… couldn’t leave Sam alone with Andy. Andy wouldn’t have been able to keep him at home, ya know?” He gave you a tight smile and left the room.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You didn’t bother with the makeup when you left the motel. Dean was right. Sam had to see. You slinked into the back of the church and sat on the back pew. You could see Sam and Andy near the front, they were impossible to miss.

You waited, watching in silence as people got up and shared their stories. Sam looked deflated, defeated, as he got up. He didn’t seem like the six-four Adonis that wooed you over a Thanksgiving weekend.

“Hi. I’m Sam and I’m addicted to heroin.” ‘ _Hi, Sam._ ’ “I’m thirty hours sober. Before that, I was six months, but… I guess that doesn’t matter, now, does it? Because  _now_ , I’m thirty hours sober and I’ve fucked my life up and… this is my fourth meeting today and I still just want to go get high. In one night, I lost my baby brother, the sobriety I worked so fucking hard for, and the love of my life and it’s all because of heroin. So why can’t I stop thinking about China?” He sighed, heavily.

“I was doing so well… and then my little brother gets hooked. I was so lost in my girlfriend, so lost in new love,  _good_ love, that I missed the signs. He’s in a coma and he’s not going to wake up. The doctors all but said he’s fuckin’ braindead and what do I do? I call my old dealer and inject myself with the same poison. I knew it was bad, I knew it was stupid, I knew it was just going to make things worse… but I did it. I got high, while my family was sitting in a hospital room watching over my little brother and when my girlfriend came to check on me… because she knew and my older brother knew, when she came to check on me…” He shook his head, sadly.

“I’ve never hurt someone I love. Everything I’ve done when I was high. Everything I’ve done for drug money or when I was coming down, I’ve never  _physically_ harmed someone I love and now… I know I did. I hurt her. She’s not answering the phone, not that I’ve tried to call. I mean, what would I say? ‘We haven’t been together that long and I know you probably hate me now, but I promise I’m gonna stay clean this time’? Huh? ‘I promise I will never hurt you again’? Can I honestly dream that she’d want anything to do with me, now?”

He scoffed, derisively. “Not that this is about her. It’s not about her. I mean, she’s… she’s so perfect and I’m such a fuck-up. I never should have tried to-” He shook his head. “I shouldn’t have dated her. I should have just… never talked to her again after I was done working for her, but… I couldn’t help it. She was this… radiant person, you know? Like, she’s one of those people that just glows in the dark and I love her and she’s… never gonna talk to me again.”

He shook his head again. “It’s not about her. It’s not about her.” He licked his lips. “I just… I keep coming back to her because she’s the one I hurt. Because I love her and she’s the one I hurt and it’s… it hurts me that I hurt her and I just… I need to hold onto that feeling to keep me going. I have to remember how bad this feels. The way the pain isn’t worth the high. I have to hold onto that,” Sam finished before sitting down.

You approached Sam and Andy as they were grabbing coffee from the table by the door. “Andy, can I borrow him for a minute?” Sam’s eyes went wide and Andy just nodded, walking away with an ‘I’ll be over here’. Sam’s eyes were glued to your mouth. “Gimme your wallet.” Sam’s eyebrows tucked together, but he pulled the leather out of his pocket, anyway, and handed it over. You flipped it open and dug into the crevice where his six month medallion stayed. You closed your hand around it and handed the wallet back.

You took a deep breath and licked your lips. “On June 30th, I’m going to give this back to you.”

Sam shook his head. “Wha-”

“Sam, shut up,” you demanded, taking the medal in your fingers as you repeated, “On June 30th, I’m going to give this back. You said, a week ago, that I was a reason to stay clean and you just said that the pain you feel about hurting me is motivation to never do it again, so you’re gonna stay clean, Sam. You’re going to stay clean and I’m going to give you this medallion back on your six months sober date.”

Tears filled Sam’s eyes as he looked into yours. His lips trembled. “Y/n, you-”

“You didn’t think you were gonna scare me away, did you?” You tucked the medal into your pocket.

“I didn’t just scare you. I  _hurt_ you.”

“Yeah. You did, Sam. You hurt me. You made me bleed. You made me have to go into a pharmacy where people know me and buy two morning after pills because I wasn’t sure one would be enough for my fat ass.” Sam opened his mouth to argue, but you just kept talking. “You put bruises on my skin and sadness in my heart and you know what? I love you too much to let that be the end of us.”

You could see him swallow and try to blink away his tears, but they just fell down his cheeks. “I’ve been through this before, Sam. I got my mom through it. I got my mom through the DTs and the terribleness and I can help you through it, too. I can help you stay strong.”

“Why would you? After what I did… how could you still-”

“‘Cause love doesn’t work like that, Sam. I’m so in love with you that I couldn’t even imagine that what you’d done was… assault until this morning. I still can’t even call it the other word.” You put your hand on his chest and smiled sadly up at him. “It’s not going to happen again, though. You’re never going to get high again. You’re gonna stay strong. For me, for Dean, for Adam in his hospital bed, but more than anything, Sam, you’re going to stay strong for  _you_. You don’t like feeling like this. The temporary euphoria isn’t worth this, is it?”

“No,” he whispered.

You looked at your watch. “We’re six hours from a new year. A new year that you’re gonna stay sober through. The first of many, okay?”

“How c-”

“Stop asking that,” you snapped. “Like you think I’m gonna change my mind. I’m not going to change my mind.”

“I don’t… I don’t deserve this, y/n.”

“Love’s not about deserving, Sam… and you  _do_. You deserve second chances and thirds and fourths and on and on until you finally win over this sickness.”

Tears were streaming down Sam’s face and you reached up to wipe them away, failing as more rushed to take the place of the ones on your fingertips. “I will,” he whispered. “And I’m so, so, sorry, y/n.”

“I know.” You wanted to say you forgave him, but you couldn’t. You weren’t there, yet.

“I’ll make it up to you.”

“Make it up to yourself, first. Sam, you have to love yourself more than you love me or this won’t work. Love yourself first.”

“Hey, I’m… I’m sorry to interrupt, but, uh… we’ve gotta hit the next meeting and it’s across town at the Y, so…” Andy gave an apologetic look as he approached you and Sam.

You gave him a small smile and turned from Andy back to Sam. “You need to go do that.” You wrapped your arms around Sam’s chest and squeezed him. “You and Andy should come over to my place tomorrow. Charlie and I do black-eyed peas for New Years.”

“Uh, I’ve got work tomorrow,” Andy said.

“Then, bring Dean,” you suggested.

“You wanna see me… your bruises aren’t even healed.”

“They’ll be covered in makeup tomorrow… for Charlie’s benefit, not yours.” You went to your tiptoes and pressed your lips to his tear-covered cheek. “New Year, new you, right? I’ll see you for lunch?”

Sam nodded. “I’ll, I’ll text you.”

“I love you, Sam,” you said, walking away with a wave.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The knock on the door came at a little before noon. You smiled as Sam and Dean walked in. “Hey, guys. Happy New Year.”

Dean nodded, looking down at you with tired green eyes. “Uh, yeah. Great way to start a new year.” He smiled and leaned over, giving you a weak side-hug. “You good?”

“Yeah, I’m good.”

“ _I’m_ not,” Charlie said, appearing in the door of the kitchen. “I’m pretty sure I threatened to castrate you if you hurt my girl.”

“No, you didn’t, Char.” You rolled your eyes.

“Well, I  _meant_ to,” she said, stomping up to Sam and glaring into his face. “If you put yourself or y/n in that kind of situation again, one where she has to learn to forgive some shit like that… I won’t just take the balls, I’ll take the whole nasty show ya got down there, understand?”

Sam nodded, obviously not sure if Charlie was being honest about making him a eunuch. “I understand. I promise it won’t happen… it won’t happen again.”

Charlie took a deep breath and sighed. “Okay. We’re good. Let’s eat some black-eyed peas and leftover ham,” she said, heading back to the kitchen. Sam followed, trying to keep his distance from the small ginger woman.

You lingered with Dean, though you weren’t sure he’d meant to linger. He just seemed too tired to make his legs move. “You good, Dean?”

His eyes snapped to yours and he chuckled as he ran a hand through his hair. “I didn’t sleep last night. I was on Sammy’s couch and every time he  _breathed_ a little louder than normal, I was scared he was getting up to call his dealer or something.” He licked his bottom lip between his teeth and bit into it. “I know it’s harder on him than it is on me, but… If it doesn’t stick this time… I don’t know if I can handle going through this over and over.”

You reached out and took Dean’s hand. “Sam won’t end up like Adam. We’re gonna make sure it sticks this time. We’re gonna… it’s gonna be okay. And if you wanted… as long as you’re sleeping on Sam’s couch, I could stay there, too. He’s got that recliner that’s super comfy.”

“You don’t have to do that,” Dean whispered.

“I know. I want to help. You  _and_  Sam.”

Dean smiled, brought your hand to his lips and clasped his other hand over yours. “You’re too good for the Winchesters, princess, but I’m glad Sam found you. Maybe we’ll be able to get this right, this time.”

“I know we can,” you said, leading Dean into the kitchen where Sam and Charlie were waiting to start the celebration of a new year together.


End file.
